Ready, Fire, Aim
by nimthriel
Summary: Nothing could compete with what he meant to me. Five years couldn't change it, the California sun couldn't burn it away. Now, all I have to do is get him back. Sequel to All's Fair in Love and Football.
1. Prologue

**Ready, Fire, Aim- Prologue**

**Dean's POV**

**There wasn't a lot of me left after Cas moved to California. **

I wasn't sad or angry like I should have been; I was just…indifferent to life at this point. When Cas left, it was like everything I had ever wanted, everything I had ever lived for, had just vanished. I honestly didn't see anything else that should matter. I knew all of this was my fault, and I guess that's what made it so much worse.

Looking back now, five years later, I was so stupid to have believed that that one person, fucking Jordan Banks of all people, could have that much sway over my life. I had allowed that prick to have so much control over me. I'm happy to say, however, that he got his comeuppance, though. Funnily enough, it came in the form of statutory rape charges that not even his daddy's money could get him out of. Last I heard of him, he was a registered sex offender serving three years in the Douglas County Jail. Good. He deserved it. Bastard.

But as much as I wanted to blame Jordan for it all, I knew I couldn't. It was all on me. I was the one who pushed Cas away, made him feel like he wasn't good enough. I was the one who…well, I try not to think about that part. It was consensual, I knew, but it still shouldn't have happened. It was one of those instances where I was selfish and took advantage of the situation. I wanted him too much, and I didn't really consider the consequences. I realized now that that had been how I lost him. He was gone within a week. I had no idea where he had gone; he hadn't even told me that he was leaving, not that either of us really attempted to contact the other after our…interlude. Desperate, I called Sam, knowing that doing so would make me appear weak, but I didn't care, I just needed to know that he was okay. Well, with the 'okay' part being very loosely defined, just that he was alive, I guess.

Imagine my surprise upon learning that Cas was nearly two thousand miles away at the time of my call. Sam informed me that Cas had moved to California to accept an offer from Berkley. Honestly, I've never been more devastated, but I've managed to convince myself that he's better off without me. Cas would never have left if I had been there holding him back. Masking my pain as best I could, I asked Sam a few questions about his life, but he caught on. He started pulling Cas into the conversation, giving me small clues and insights into Cas' new life. It felt good just to be talking about Cas, but it hurt knowing that he sounded so happy. I started calling Sam almost daily, and eventually, my brother caught on that I just wanted to talk about Cas, smart little shit.

I had to shake it off, though. I couldn't keep torturing myself with something that I could never be a part of. Cas deserved his happiness more than anyone, and if being away from me would give him that, I could oblige, however grudging it may be. Once, in a moment of weakness, I asked Sam if Cas ever asked about me. My heart shattered when Sam said, "No," and didn't elaborate. I forced myself to move on, to shove the memories of Cas out of my mind and work on rebuilding myself for the future. It didn't go quite as planned, but it's starting to work itself out.

After dropping out of college in favor of attending a trade school, I got a job at a small auto shop on 23rd. I was there about a week before I was made head mechanic, a month before I was made manager, and a year before I took over the business. It was a good investment for me. Business had picked up under the skillful wings of my advertising major girlfriend, Lisa, and my mechanical genius, Bobby. The work was good, the money was better, and I was happy enough to get through the day without drinking. I'd call it a win/win for me.

I guess I should probably explain about Lisa.

We met in an interpersonal communications class before I dropped out. She sat in front of me, and I could smell the strawberry scent of her hair when she walked past my table. All I knew about her was that she was brunette and had a killer body, until about a week into class, that is. I had forgotten my flash drive and needed the notes on the previous lecture. I steeled my nerve and tapped her on the shoulder. That's when I discovered that she had an amazing smile and gorgeous brown eyes as well. She handed me her flash drive, and I later gave it back with my number. She called me two days later, and we've been together ever since. The best thing about Lisa was that she didn't run screaming for the hills when I told her about Cas. Not that I was completely honest with her about him, but whatever.

See, it took me a really, really long time to get over him, if I truly ever have. Even with Lisa there, I would think of him. When Lisa would touch me, her hands seemed just a bit too small, her body a bit too soft. Her mouth wasn't as hot, she was less aggressive, and for a while, I was unable to…ahem… reciprocate her advances. It wasn't until I found her crying in my bed that I was able to tell her what my problem was. I had just exited the shower, and Lisa was on the bed with her head in her hands. She had looked up at me with her soulful brown eyes, and I felt my heart clench. The last time someone had ever looked at me like that, he'd left and I'd spent the next five years pining for him. I sat down next to her and pulled her into my arms. She sobbed against my shoulder for a bit and was finally able to tell me what was bothering her after some skillful prodding on my part.

Turns out, if you can't get it up, women tended to get insecure. Who knew, right?

I had my work cut out for me convincing her that it wasn't anything she had done and that my past relationship had messed me up, bad. She was sympathetic and understanding and even shared some of her own past relationship woes. The only thing I left out was that Cas happened to be a male. I don't know what made me keep that from her, but I just did. Couldn't explain it then, and I can't explain it now. Maybe I was a bit scared that she would judge me or worse, leave, but whatever the reason, I didn't tell her, and she still doesn't know.

Oh, and of course, the fact that I was still hopelessly in love with him. I left that out too.

On the outside, we seemed so happy. But now, she was hinting at things, and I was getting scared. Four years and nine months was a really long time to be with someone and not give them any indication of what your plans for the future were. Lisa was patient, but lately, she'd taken to leaving wedding magazines out where I was sure to see them, like on my work bench or inside my tool box. She also began making these little comments of how her college friends were getting married and popping out babies. I cringed a bit just thinking about it. Lisa was great, she really was damn near perfect actually, but she just…wasn't…what I wanted. She wasn't who I wanted would probably be a more accurate statement, but I choose not to go down that road right now.

Point was, no matter who was in my life, no matter what I did, Cas would always be there, a constant reminder of my shortcomings and failures, and a symbol of everything that could have been if I had just managed to be a little braver. I know that I missed my chance with him and I would regret it for the rest of my life, but God, if there was ever a way I could start over, I'd drop everything to be with him. (Aw.)

"Dean!" Lisa's voice pulled me out of my reverie, and I sat up a little straighter as she came into the room. She was holding up two dresses in front of her. One was a bit on the conservative side and black while the other had an open back and was in navy blue. Cas had always worn blue. "Which one?" she asked, alternating the dresses in front of her. I screwed up my face, pretending that it was a hard decision. The blue one really looked the best, but all I could think about was sliding a navy sweater over strong shoulders and staring into the equally dark eyes that popped over the collar before delving in to run my lips over a stubbly jaw and tongue at the pouty petals of…

"The black one," I said hurriedly to stop my visions. Lisa looked confused for half a second then nodded and walked away. I breathed a sigh of relief.

This was going to be one hell of a long night.

* * *

**Hey guys! Did you miss me? I missed you. I'll be posting chapter one here in a bit, just because the prologue is so short and also, I love you. As always, special thanks to my amazing beta Libranfate, without whom this story would have been written in crayon.**


	2. Classroom Etiquette

**Ready, Fire, Aim**

**Chapter One- Classroom Etiquette**

**Cas  
**

**There were very few things that made Cas sadder than the end of a school year. **He slid a few folders back into a bag before turning to the bulletin board behind him. It had a sky blue background with stapled-on cotton ball clouds. The names of his students were written in their untidy scrawl on the clouds' scalloped edges. Cas began pulling them off reluctantly. He wished he could keep them, but he knew that his students would want to take them home. He was one of those teachers that liked to keep mementos of his students. The end of the school year was always bittersweet for him. Though he loved the promise of summer, he would miss his kids and his classroom. He hated the barren way his room looked without all the bright contact paper and decorations that came standard with a second grade classroom. He pulled off another cloud as a knock fell upon his door. He turned to see Sam striding into his classroom like he was as comfortable here as Cas was.

"Hey, Sam," Cas said before turning back to his cloud pulling.

"Hey. Rugrats at recess?" he asked, and Cas nodded.

"Will you pass these out for me?" Cas requested holding out a pile of clouds for Sam to take. Sam slung his bag into Cas' chair and began placing the clouds on the kid's desks by memory. He was there often enough to know where everyone sat. Sam was a regular in Cas' classroom. It had started with him subbing for Cas one day when his IEP meetings were due. The kids had loved him so much that they constantly badgered Cas to bring him back. So, Cas had asked a very flattered Sam to come in on Fridays to read with the kids and play games during one of their recesses. The kids even called him Sam now. It was pretty cute.

Suddenly, the loud pounding of feet and high pitched voices could be heard in the hall outside Cas' classroom. Cas turned away from his board and faced his class as they barged in.

"No, Kasey. You can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"It's in the rules!"

"But you made up the rules, and you keep changing them! It's not fair!"

"That's too bad, Kasey. Guess you can't play anymore." Cas rolled his eyes. Second graders were so bossy.

"Mr. Novak!" Kasey, the resident tattle-tale called out to him, but as she turned, she saw Sam and the tears vanished. "Hey guys! Sam's here!" she cried, pointing. All other protestations were forgotten upon the sight of Sam, as Cas knew they would be. The kids all rushed up to Sam, the boys hanging back a bit as the girls hugged his legs and pulled at his hands. He slapped high-fives with the boys and did funny little handshakes with some of them as well.

"Dude, Sam! I just got a new Lego set, it's so cool!"

"Forget that! I just got a new battle-scarred Batman action figure. It's so much cooler than your stupid Legos."

"Ha! You wish! My Legos are Star Wars. Sam, tell him that Star Wars is so much cooler than Batman."

Sam looked over at Cas and mouthed, "Help me," with a smile. Cas just snorted at him and went to rescue him.

"Okay, guys. Find your seats." Cas said, and the kids sat down with a chorus of, "Awwww!" The two boys, Adam and Michael, were still arguing over whether Star Wars or Batman was cooler as they slid into their seats.

"Mr. Novak?" a voice over the intercom called.

"Yes?" Cas shouted at the speaker.

"Delivery for you up at the front office. Should I send it back to your room?"

"Yes, please. Thank you."

"What is it?" Adam asked.

"Pizza delivery!" a man said coming into the classroom. Cas paid and thanked him as the kids roared around them.

"I think you just lost out to the pizza man," Cas joked with Sam as they set up the pizza on a table in the room. Sam bumped Cas with his shoulder, and their hands brushed as they reached for the paper plates. Goose pimples flew up Cas' arm and as he shuddered, he could see Sam's smile as it grew when Sam reached forward to continue with the plates.

"Adam," Sam called, "come pass these out." He handed them off to Adam, the napkins to Kasey, and then had the rows come up one by one to pick out two slices of pizza and their choice of soda. Cas went through the motions of helping, but was too flustered to do much else. Things with Sam had been…different lately, and Cas had begun noticing things about him that he'd never paid much attention to before. Things like how penetrating his hazel eyes could be, or how he would sometimes catch Sam staring and even when discovered, Sam had stopped looking away. Instead, he would just smile his slow smile, and Cas would be left feeling like jelly. Neither of them had even attempted to progress things, though. There would always be a very solid, Dean-shaped barrier between them that would be next to impossible for them to bring down. So Cas just contented himself in the little things, like how warm Sam's hand was when it rested on the small of his back, or how Sam would sometimes let Cas cuddle up to him while they watched CSI re-runs, just because he knew Cas needed the comfort and contact.

It was all very sudden. Sam and Gabriel had been going strong until about a year ago when Gabriel got a job offer from a merchandiser based out of London. Cas remembered the fights and the nights that Sam more often than not, would end up on his couch at two in the morning and would stay for days. The big blow-up had come when Gabriel accepted the offer without telling Sam until two days before he was set to leave. Cas knew Gabriel had begged Sam to go, but in the end, Sam refused to even see him off. Cas had hugged Gabriel at the terminal and wished him luck and a safe flight. He requested that Cas tell Sam that he loved him, a request Cas had yet to fulfill. Honestly, it was a shit thing for Gabriel to have done, and Cas was just as pissed with him as Sam was. As far as he knew, they hadn't spoken since, and Sam seemed okay with that. Apparently, the sex wasn't that great anyway. Cas smirked, but pushed that thought out of his head, it was way too inappropriate to think about while surrounded by twenty eight year olds.

The lights went out around him, and he had a plate of pizza shoved into his hands. Cas was obviously not paying as much attention as he thought he had been. Sam had been able to set up a movie for the kids, get them settled down, and serve everyone soda before Cas had even realized that he had moved from his side. Cas' eyes popped over to Sam where he sat behind the table, patting the hard plastic seat next to him. Cas sat as Sam took a massive bite of triple cheese pizza.

"You know," Cas whispered, "adults can sit in the cushy chairs."

"Well, that's a little unfair, don't you think? What makes your ass so important?" Cas could think of a million inappropriate ways to respond to that and by the sly smirk on Sam's face, he knew wasn't alone in his thoughts. Instead, Cas just blushed and nudged Sam's ribs with his elbow. Sam snorted and dove back into his pizza. Cas just rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the Jungle Book

**Sam's POV**

**Walking into Cas' classroom was a bit like walking into a second home. **I was here so often that the kids had started calling me Sam instead of Mr. Winchester, although Cas insisted that I make them call me by my last name. I reminded Cas that I wasn't his student and that he wasn't the boss of me. The glare I got was worth it when the kids cackled with laughter. Cas wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the day.

When I entered the room, Cas was facing the opposite direction, pulling clouds of construction paper and cotton balls off the bulletin board behind his desk. I knew he'd be debating on whether he could get away with shoving them into his bag and taking them home without the kids noticing. He probably could, but then he'd feel so guilty for "stealing" from his kids that he'd probably make home visits to return them all (and drag me with him no doubt). He was one of those rare people that were made for teaching. He loved every one of his kids and treasured everything they did. I knew this day would be difficult for him. It always was. He would need lots of ice cream and cuddles after work today, especially when I put the proverbial cherry on top of an already 'perfect' day. Note the sarcasm there.

See, I just had a call from my brother about two hours before I was planning on joining Cas' pizza party. Things weren't so awesome at home, and he wanted to come out. I agreed, mostly because I knew things had to be pretty bad for Dean to want to come out to California. He didn't elaborate much, but I caught something about him feeling suffocated, and it would just be really nice to see his baby brother. That threw me right there. Dean had actually said, "It would be nice to see my baby brother." It was about as sentimental as Dean got, and I knew he must be pretty desperate if he was resorting to niceties. Part of me was really excited to spend some time with Dean, but another part of me, a greater part, was sort of apprehensive. Dean's visit would present so many problems that I didn't even want to think about right now. Especially where Cas was concerned.

My feelings for Cas had really progressed into something that I didn't recognize anymore. It happened so slowly that I didn't even notice it until one day I just woke up, needing to see him. It was four in the morning, and I rushed over without thinking, knocking on Cas' door, hoping he would let me in. His hair had been matted to one side, his eyes were all sleepy and red, but the way he said my name, all groggy and rough, obliterated the guilt I felt in waking him up. I made up some excuse that honestly, I'm not even sure he heard and I don't even remember, but he just nodded, took my hand, and pulled me into his room. Typically, we just went to the couch and I would crash there, but Cas settled under the covers and I slipped in behind him, curling up against his back and wrapping a secure arm around him. I had buried my face into his neck and held him through the night, waking before he did in the morning to start coffee, and that was that. We haven't talked about it since. I'm not even sure he remembers, but I do and Dean's coming is going to ruin everything I've carefully cultivated over these past years.

Now, I'm not necessarily talking about my feelings for Cas here, I'm not _that _selfish. Cas, as much as he tried to pretend he wasn't, was an absolute wreck after what had happened with Dean and I had a terrible feeling that Dean would blow through, fuck up everything, and then leave me to pick up the pieces of Cas again. I mean, there was no way I couldn't tell Cas that he was coming. What if they met up by chance and I didn't tell him? Cas would see that as the ultimate form of betrayal, and I'd probably never hear from the guy again. I wish there was a way that I could get out of this. Why does every shit storm always have me in the center? What the hell had I ever done

I watch as Cas finishes removing the clouds before I knock and waltz in. Cas turns to me and smiles. Tingles crawl up my spine, and I find myself returning the gesture without thinking.

"Hey, Sam," he says, and he sounds sad. My grin turns sympathetic. I knew he'd be a wreck today.

"Hey, the Rugrats at recess?" I ask and he nods, holding a stack of clouds out to me.

"Could you pass these out?" I take them from him and our fingers brush. I linger a while, but he's so lost, he doesn't even notice. I begin to divvy out clouds, and I enjoy watching him do the same before the kids come stomping into the room. I was under heavy siege immediately. I reciprocated their enthusiasm as much as I could, but I couldn't pick sides in the Batman versus Star Wars debate. Privately though, I thought Michael made a pretty good case about the Legos. I turned my head to look at Cas. I could tell the ass was amused. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a small smirk on his lips. I mouthed for him to help me, and he was soon able to get his class under control. There was a loud 'bing' and then a voice announcing pizza and the class erupted again.

The class was talking loudly as Cas and I began setting up the table. We reached for the plates at the same time, and my hand practically wrapped itself around Cas'. He pulled away, feigning a need to grab the napkins, but not before I saw the goose bumps pop up all over his skin. I was smiling like an idiot and I knew it. Cas moved behind the table and stood there, rearranging things that didn't need to be rearranged, and I felt my smile grow stupidly large. I had flustered him, that much was obvious, and it was by something that I hadn't even meant to do. I charged a few students with passing things out and got the DVD player all set up with the Jungle Book and then made a plate for Cas. I shoved it into his hands and then sat down to eat. He was still staring at his pizza like he was wondering how it had gotten there, which I guessed, he probably was. I tapped my blunt nails on the seat next to me to gain his attention and he sat, regarding me with a little smirk and teasing eyes.

"You know, adults can sit in the cushy chairs." He told me, and I pretended to be offended.

"That seems a little unfair. What makes your ass so important?" I joked and he looked a little surprised by it. It took all the self-control I possessed to not burst out laughing when he blushed. Instead, I waggled my brows at him and smiled, causing him to turn an even deeper shade of tomato. I think Cas knew I was into him. It's not like I was blatant about it, but I was always eager to find ways of doing things that would allow me to touch him. Like, if we made breakfast together, I could go around him to reach into the fridge, but it was just as easy to slide my arm around his body to pull out the milk or, if we were getting coffee and he tried to pay, I would causally push his hands down and pull out my own wallet. Finding ways to touch him was easy, but I'd never seen his body react like this before, nor had I ever seen him blush so much.

The thing was, even if he reciprocated my feelings, Dean would always be a factor. I hated the thought of that. It was an internal battle that's been going on for a while. I felt like I'd be betraying Dean if I went after Cas, and I sure as hell knew Cas still loved my brother. Cas never said it, but it was pretty obvious when the guy hadn't had sex in five years and hadn't even attempted to date. He said he never had the time, but I knew it was a lie. It was because of Dean. Dean had really messed Cas up, and he was still getting over it. I'm sure it didn't help when your best friend happened to be the brother of your bane either. I really didn't see how we could ever have a chance with Dean's ghost looking over our shoulders. The thing was, I'm sure Cas thought I was too loyal to Dean to pursue him (I'm not, by the way), but up until this point, I wasn't sure that I would even have a chance in hell with him.

I can just imagine the family reunions. I'm sure Dean would be super supportive as well. Note the sarcasm, again. It would be beyond difficult, and even more so now that Dean was coming back into the picture in a very big way, but I had to try. Cas deserves to be happy and I knew that if he just gave me a shot, I could do that for him. I could make him happy, I was sure of it.

If only my confidence hadn't been so high at this point. I was unable to see that I'd been trying to make Cas happy for the past five years and hadn't succeeded yet.

**Dean's POV**

I needed to see him.

I had to make sure that there was absolutely nothing left between us before I let myself be bound to Lisa irrevocably. The dinner with her family is what set it off. Her fucking vulture of a mother would not shut up about how much she wanted grandkids, and of course, one of Lisa's sisters thought it would be the perfect moment to announce her engagement to the table. I knew then that the shit had hit the fan. I began to sweat profusely and her mother then turned her black eyes on me, as I knew she would. She smiled sweetly over at Lisa, but I could see the malice behind her eyes. This woman was hell, and I knew she was going to ask Lisa that one question that I had been dreading all dinner.

"And when is it your turn, dear?" Satan incarnate spoke in a fluttery, high-pitched voice, like she was just teasing, but I heard the threat under it. I shuddered. If Lisa and I had kids, this bitch would probably eat them. Fuck, she was scary. Lisa laughed lightly and then deflected the question to me.

"I don't know. Dean?"

'You know what Lisa. Fuck you.' Was the only thing I could think to say and so, I kept my mouth shut and reached for the red vintage in front of me. I hated wine, but downed the whole glass and excused myself for the restroom. As I left, I heard Lucifina say, "Men are all the same, dear. Too afraid to commit and yet, they want to subjugate you. This one is handsome enough, though, and makes good money. You should get a few kids off of him and then retire." I almost broke the bitch's neck as she cackled, but instead, I just walked away. Later that night, I got it even worse from Lisa.

"She was right you know." I didn't even bother asking what she was talking about.

"Which part? The part where I should be pressured into something I'm not ready for? Or the part where I objectify you?" I growled, throwing my toe-cramping dress shoes into my closet. Lisa threw her purse at me and something hard and clunky hit me in the head. That really pissed me off. I tossed the purse to the floor along with my jacket and tie and left the room, storming out of the house and into my car. I couldn't stay in there with her any longer. It sucked enough to be railed by her entire family at dinner, but to come home and get it from her too was unbearable. I hauled ass to the Jayhawk motel, a crappy little place in North Lawrence where I knew she wouldn't go, and booked a room for the next two nights. I needed a fucking break.

I tossed my keys on the table and sat on the bed, stewing for nearly an hour. It was nearly two in the morning, but I called Sam anyway. He didn't answer, but I left a voicemail telling him to call me back. Then I turned on the TV, removed my pants and starchy button-up, and fell onto the creaky bed, not bothering to crawl under the moth eaten sheets before I passed out, watching some sort of cartoon about cows.

The next morning, or afternoon I guess, I woke up to my phone blaring at me. It was Sam, so I slid the answer button over and grunted out a hello.

"Hey Dean, sorry I got back to you so late, but it sounds like I woke you up so I guess it's okay."

"Yeah, what's up?" It may have been two in the afternoon, but my mind wasn't working yet.

"You tell me."

"Can I come visit?" I asked out of nowhere, and I could tell that he was taken aback by the question, but I waited in silence for his answer. He recovered quickly.

"Yeah, of course you can Dean, but where is this coming from all of a sudden?"

"Things are getting kind of cluster fucked here and…" I paused a bit, "it would be nice to see my baby brother. It's been what…eight months?"

"Yeah, about," Sam cleared his throat, "when were you thinking of coming down?"

"Well, I gotta give Bobby at the shop some notice, so in a week or so? It's Wednesday, so I'll leave Thursday and be there late afternoon Friday?"

"Okay, but are you gonna be alright until then?" Sam was always worrying about me. He knew how unstable I became after Cas, and since then, even from two thousand miles away, he's still so protective. You gotta love Sam, though. He's always there when the shit hits the fan.

"I'll be fine Sammy. I call you from the road, kay?"

"Sure Dean. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Sammy." A click from the other side ended the call, and Sam was gone. I checked my phone. I had six voicemails, five from Lisa and one from Bobby. I took my chances with the old bear.

"Where in the hell are you? Lisa's been in here three times already ripping me a new asshole, and we've got cars stacked down to Louisiana," Bobby snarled, referring to one of the main streets in Lawrence about a mile from my shop.

"Hey, Bobby, I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Don't pull that crap with me, Dean. Are you coming in today or not?"

"Can you call in Jo? She can do tires and oil changes. Tell her I'll pay her two hundred for the day."

"She's already here, and she deserves a hell of a lot more than two hundred for what she's had to deal with."

"Alright, I'll be in at three."

"Fine," Dean was about to end the call, but Bobby's voice stopped him, "And call Lisa so she leaves us alone. Jo's about to rip her damn hair out."

"Will do, Bobby."

"Idgit." Bobby grumbled into the phone and was gone.

I couldn't help but smile. This man, while gruff and abrasive, was a damn good employee and an even better friend. He was invaluable to me, and I honestly hoped he didn't quit when I told him that I would be leaving in a week to visit Sam. I wouldn't even be able to tell him when I would be back. Oh boy, was he going to love that. I knew he could run the shop though, probably better than I did actually, and I would allow him to hire on a temp or bring Jo in as needed. I looked back down at my phone and deleted Lisa's messages without even listening to them. I knew they'd all be the same. The first few would be angry, asking me where I was, the next she would be worried, and then she'd be crying, begging me to please call her, and then the last one would be angry again, threatening to call the police if I didn't call her within an hour. It's been four since her last message. I hoped I wasn't a wanted man. I grimaced as I selected her number and listened to it ring. I held the phone away from my ear for good measure.

"Dean, where the hell…"

"I'm staying away for a while." I interrupted, "I need some time to think."

"This is bullshit, Dean. Where are you?"

"In Lawrence, for now."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked, and I grit my teeth. Better tell her while I didn't have to look at her. It was cowardly but so much easier than having a purse thrown at my head again.

"I'm gonna visit Sam for a while."

"You're going to CALIFORNIA?!" she screeched, and I was glad I had the phone pulled away from my ear.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I told you, I need to think, reevaluate some things."

"Dean, no." She sounded worried now.

"It's something that I need to do for me, Lisa. I need you to understand and respect that." I was trying to be as calm as possible, but her petulance was grating.

"How can you expect me to 'understand' or 'respect' that?" she said sarcastically, but my patience was at an end.

"Or don't. I don't care. Point is, I'm going."

"Great. Thanks for taking how I feel into consideration." She hung up. I couldn't blame her for being angry, but that didn't make it any less annoying. Sighing, I dressed and hopped into my car, setting out for home. Once there, I changed and packed a few bags. At least I wouldn't have to see her until after I got back. A part of me kind of hoped she'd go back to her mother's so I wouldn't have to deal with her when I came home either, but I knew that I would never be so lucky.

* * *

**Well hello again! Okay, so the beginning of this story will have quite a few character POV's in it. The whole story will not play out that way, I promise. Libranfate is awesome at writing in first person I, however, am not. Just forewarning you that your favorite characters are going to be butchered and served up on little slabs for my amusement for a while. Also, I posted the prologue just a half hour ago and I've already had over one hundred viewers. Dudes, thanks. Seriously though, I'd love to know what you think. Love it? Hate it? C'mon, you guys read my author's notes from All's Fair, you know how insecure I get. And look, two postings within an hour of each other. I deserve at least a flame. :D**


	3. The Pros and Cons of Coming Early

**Ready, Fire, Aim**

**Chapter Two-The Pros and Cons of Coming Early**

**AN: GOOD MORNING VIETNAM! It's a delightfully overcast day here in Lawrence, KS, and I thought I would celebrate by bringing you another update. As always, major thanks to my boss beta, Libranfate, for making sure I don't look (and sound) like an idiot when I write. (He's got a tough job guys, you should thank him too…) Anywho, enjoy lovies!**

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**Sam**

_**This is impossible. **_

_** No, it's not.**_

_**But, he's so happy right now. I just can't…**_

_** You need to.**_

_**Just look at his smile. There's no way…**_

_** Sam…**_

_**I can't.**_

**Sam shut down his internal battle and instead, he focused on Cas who was sitting next to him, smiling and jabbering on about his tenure.**

"I mean, I just can't believe that they offered it to me this early! I've only been with them for two years."

"Of course they offered you tenure. You're an amazing teacher, Cas. You know that." Sam told him earnestly, but Cas just rolled his eyes.

"The kids wouldn't have liked me half as much if you hadn't been there," Cas said, and it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes.

"The opinions of your students have nothing to do with being offered tenure and you know it." Sam argued and watched as a satisfied little smirk passed over Cas' face.

"Well, maybe not, but you were there for me, and that definitely did help." Sam smiled and let his gaze linger a bit too long. He hadn't meant to, but it was just so rare now to see such happiness in Cas' eyes. He could tell that he had made Cas uncomfortable, though. Cas didn't say anything, but he stood quickly and began clearing their plates from the coffee table. Sam grabbed their wine glasses and the half empty bottle and followed Cas into his kitchen. Cas stood over the sink, rinsing the plates, and he jumped a little when Sam came up behind him to set the glasses in the sink.

"Sorry," he said chuckling a bit, trying not to let Cas see how perturbed he was by Cas' sudden aloofness. Cas barely acknowledged him. The silence was heavy around them, and Sam knew that this would be the perfect time to tell Cas about Dean, but he couldn't. It was getting down to the last few days before Dean's arrival, and still, Sam was unable to mention it to his friend. It wasn't fair to Cas at all, but Sam was nearly convinced he'd just be able to 'hide' Dean for as long as he was there. Sam shook his head, knowing that that wouldn't work. Cas was constantly at his place and would know that something was up the second Sam denied him access. It would probably throw up a red flag when Sam had to change the locks because Cas had a key, but Sam chose to ignore that little issue.

The only logical thing to do would be to tell Cas the truth. It would earn him a few moments of anger from Cas, but in the end, Cas would know, and Sam wouldn't be lying to him anymore. But as much as he wanted to say something, he didn't. Sam told himself that it was to spare Cas' feelings, but when you were as self-aware as Sam was, it was next to impossible to lie to yourself.

The real reason was because there was a part of Sam that knew Cas would go running back to Dean the second that Impala rumbled down the street, and Sam didn't want to lose him just yet, especially to his brother that would never be good enough for Cas, no matter how much he tried. Sam pushed that thought out of his head. It was the jealousy rearing its ugly head. Sam knew that Cas would never be truly happy without Dean, but he had to try. He had to make absolutely certain that there was nothing there before he just let Cas go.

If only Sam knew that Dean was thinking the exact same thing, it probably could have spared him a lot of future hurt.

"Sam?" Cas' voice pulled him back down to Earth, and Sam smiled over at his friend.

"Yeah?" His voice came out dry and scratchy as he cleared his throat. Cas moved closer to him, concern written all over his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked. The 'you've been acting weird lately,' was implied, but unspoken.

"Of course," Sam replied, not looking Cas in the eyes. Sam couldn't lie to him, no matter how hard he tried or how much he wanted to.

"Sam…" Cas probed, and Sam looked over at him, head hung low, eyes pleading. Sam couldn't think of what to say. His mind was utterly blank. Any lie or truth he might have told, died on his lips when Cas stepped closer, dipping his head, but looking up to catch Sam's eyes. He raised a hand and put it on Sam's cheek, opening his mouth to encourage Sam to speak, but never got that far as Sam's mouth settled over his.

**Cas**

**It took Castiel a few moments to realize what was happening and then, his mind exploded with questions, feelings, denials, and everything else imaginable. **Sam held the wrist on the hand he'd placed on his cheek, his eyes were clenched shut and the grip around Cas' waist was iron-clad. Before he could think of doing much else, Cas' own body had betrayed him, melting into Sam's arms, his hand threading into thick brown locks of hair, and his mouth opening to allow a velvet tongue through. His eyes were the last to succumb, falling closed only after Sam had lifted Cas onto the counter and settled between his spread knees. He couldn't stop it, didn't even want to as Sam's questing mouth bit down his jaw-line and gave gentle attention to his neck. Cas gripped at his broad shoulders weakly as Sam came back up, claiming his lips again. Cas groaned against Sam's mouth. Jesus, it had been so long.

Cas hadn't been kissed since…

The thought of Dean made him pull back. Sam's mouth chased his, and if the situation hadn't been so dire, Cas might have laughed. Cas watched as Sam's hazel eyes opened slowly. He was almost afraid of what he'd see there. But as it turned out, they were shadowed with nothing but guilt, like Sam had known exactly what made Cas pull away, and he was sorry that he'd even thought to push him into something that he knew Cas would never want. Cas' arms fell softly to the side as Sam stepped away from him, eyes on the floor. He didn't say anything and for that, Cas was grateful. Nothing Sam could have said would have made this okay for Cas. He did, however, offer a hand to help Cas down from the counter. Cas hesitantly accepted it and as soon as his feet were settled on the floor, Sam left the room. Cas stepped lightly over to the doorway and peeked his head around the frame to watch Sam.

The younger man was pulling on his shoes and shouldering his messenger bag. It was obvious that he was leaving, and Cas was confused as to why he didn't try and stop him. Sam was his best friend, the only thing that had held him together after Dean and here he was, just letting him walk out after something that momentous had just occurred. Sam had reached the front door now, his hand gripping onto the knob, and there he paused. Cas was seized with a momentary panic that he would turn around and kiss him again, but Sam just sighed, rubbed his hand over his face, and was gone. Cas breathed out a sigh of relief and slid his back down the kitchen wall, bringing his knees to his chest as he tried to process what had just happened.

_He kissed me__, h_e said to himself. _Sam just kissed me__, i__t was…good. _Cas groaned, burying his head in his hands. It was a good thing Sam had left when he did. Cas didn't think he'd have been able to deny him a second time. Not just because Sam was very, very talented in that department, but becasue Cas trusted him. Even though he'd been beyond surprised and a little more than uncomfortable with his advances, ultimately Cas knew Sam wouldn't hurt him. That's why it had been so easy to respond. Sam always took care of him, and he knew that he would be safe in Sam's keeping. He reached up to touch his lips; they were still tingling from the kiss. Licking them, he tasted the wine Sam had been drinking. Cas didn't drink wine, but the bittersweet taste seemed appropriate for the situation. He couldn't leave things as they were, though. He'd need to talk to Sam, and soon. He just hoped he knew what to say that wouldn't lose him the best friend he'd ever had and the most important thing in his life.

**Sam**

**It was a miracle that Sam had gotten any sleep at all. **His mind just would not leave him alone.

_You shouldn't have done that._

_ I know._

_He trusted you._

_ I know._

_He's never going to speak to you again._

_ I KNOW!_

Sam slammed his hand down on the night stand next to his bed, but even his anger was no match for the niggling of his conscious.

_He never wanted you that way. How could he?_

_ Shut up. Just please__,__ shut up._

_He's only ever wanted Dean. What are you in comparison to him?_

_ Aren't you supposed to be on my side?_

_Just being honest…_

_ You're being mean._

_Well, you're having a conversation inside your head. Pretty sure that makes you crazy._

Sam fell back against his sheets and closed his eyes. He couldn't do this right now. This was the one time that he understood why Dean had resorted to alcoholism after Cas left. It was the only thing that would stop the voices. It might sound a little crazy, but it was amazing the things your guilt can make you do and fuck, Sam's never felt more reprehensible in his life. He'd taken complete advantage in Cas' trust in him. He needed to apologize, but he was just so afraid.

A knock on his door urged him out of bed. He padded softly towards the door, pausing only to zip a jacket up over his naked torso. He abandoned the safety of the peephole and regretted it as soon as he opened the door. He should have pretended that he wasn't home. Cas smiled uncertainly at him and held up a bag of muffins and two coffees from their favorite café down the street. Sam returned the sentiment as best he could, and let his friend in the door. Cas sat on the couch and passed Sam his Caramel Macchiato, but Sam just held it, letting the warmth seep into his frigid fingers. Cas was facing him, looking at him somewhat expectantly, and Sam wondered if he was waiting for him to speak. But as was the case last night, Sam had no words to offer. He looked away to try to convey that to Cas, but soon, he felt a soft hand covering his knee. He immediately glanced back up.

"We can talk about this, Sam. It's okay."

"What about this is okay, Cas?" Sam felt the sadness creep into his eyes, but he blinked it away. "What I did…I…"

"It's okay, Sam. Really."

"No, it's not, Cas. I know you better than that. You're saying it's okay to spare my feelings, nothing more."

"Sam…"

"I can't even tell you that I'm sorry. I'm not. Not at all, and that's what sucks," Sam admitted, and Cas sat back. Cas took in a deep breath a, Sam tried to build his wall as high as possible, preparing for the blow Cas was about to land that would bring it crumbling down. But all he said was, "Why?" Sam was a little shocked by the question. "Why did he think?

"Is it not obvious, Cas?" he responded softly.

"This is…"

"I know you don't and probably can't even reciprocate, but… I just had to let you know before…" Sam stopped himself before he mentioned Dean. It left his sentence strangely fragmented, and he was sure Cas would catch on. He thought up a lie as quickly as he could.

"Before what?"

"Before you moved on." It was weak, Sam knew, but he hoped it would prompt Cas to discuss something else. He was sorely disappointed.

"Moved on from what, Sam? I don't understand." One look at Cas' face confirmed that he really didn't. Sam wasn't even sure he understood anymore.

"To other things, other people. I had to try, Cas." Sam scooted closer and pulled one of Cas' hands into his. "You're…" Sam knew this was going to blow up in his face. He knew he should have just quit while he was ahead, but seeing as he had already dug his own grave, he might as well put the nails in his coffin as well. "You're everything to me, Cas. You always have been and I just wanted to try. I'm not expecting anything from you, I just couldn't keep going without your knowing this." Cas looked stunned. His mouth was hanging open slightly and his blue eyes were wide, his pupils blown so that only the tiniest bit of azure iris showed through. As Sam waited for Cas to respond, his palms began to sweat, and he bit his tongue hard. When Cas spoke, it was not with the disdainful denial he had expected, but with something much more pleasant to hear.

"I'd like that." Cas said, and Sam wasn't sure if he'd heard him correctly.

"What?" his voice came out a bit breathless as he accidentally squeezed Cas' hand too tightly. Cas just smiled at him and covered their joined hands with one of his own and looked Sam directly in his eyes.

"I said, 'I'd like that.'" he repeated. "I want us to try."

"Really?" Sam still wasn't sure that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Cas just nodded, and Sam finally smiled.

**Cas**

**Cas wasn't really sure what had made him tell Sam that he wanted to try for something more. **The only argument he had was that he wasn't sure that he _didn't _want something with Sam, so why the hell shouldn't they try? Sam's eyes could have been a factor as well. The guy just had this perpetually sad look to him that Cas just wanted to wipe away, and as soon as he told Sam that he wanted to try, the sadness was gone, replaced at first by confusion, then a happiness so profound that it almost made Cas believe in what he was saying.

_You're going to hurt him, in the end. There's no way to avoid that. There is no part in this where Sam gets a happy ending. You know that and yet, you're still going to go through with this aren't you?_

Cas wouldn't let himself dwell on those details, though. If he did, Sam would know and he'd hurt him without even giving them a chance. Cas knew that Sam wasn't so selfish as to force Cas into something that he didn't want.

But that was the problem. Cas wasn't positive that he didn't want this, no more than he was sure that he did.

**Dean**

**The road stretched out bare and gray before him****,**** and to Dean, there wasn't a sight more comforting. **He was leaving, getting out before he had the chance to do something really stupid. He refused to think about the fact that he was continually running from his problems. He liked to think that he wasn't avoiding them, but just putting them on the backburner until he was more adept at dealing with them.

_No, that's not avoidance at all__,__h_is conscious sarcastically reminded him. He rolled his eyes at his thoughts and pulled out his cell to call Sam. He was a day early, but he knew his brother would be more than excited to hear from him. Sam was his only constant in this world, and he would understand if Dean needed to come out sooner than anticipated. He knew it.

"Hey Sammy!" Dean's voice was too happy and sounded fake even to his ears.

"Hey. What's up?" Sam was too nice to call him out on it, but Dean could tell from Sam's tone that he was surprised by the falseness in Dean's voice.

"Just uh… wanted to know if I could come out a bit early, that's all."

"You're already on the road aren't you?"

"I'm fifty miles from the Colorado boarder."

"Great." Sam said, and Dean was kind of taken aback at the irritation in Sam's tone.

"Listen, I can hold up in a hotel or something if you've got big plans or…" Dean began, but Sam cut him off.

"No, it's fine. It's only one day. It's just…never mind."

"What is it, Sam?"

"It's nothing, Dean. Just a mess I need to clean up before you get here," he said.

"Uh-huh. Well, if you've got something going on, it's fine. I can…"

"Dean! It's okay. I'll see you in a few days, okay? Have a safe drive."

"I'll try. And Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Yeah."

Then he was gone. Dean looked down at his phone for a moment before tossing it onto the seat next to him. That was beyond weird. There was definitely something up that Sam wasn't letting him in on. He had expected Sam to be a little thrown by his declaration, but he hadn't expected him to sound so frustrated at the prospect. Then it hit him. Sammy must have found himself a boyfriend. The thought made Dean smile. His brother needed someone. Gabriel had fucked him over royally, and Sam had been wallowing in his misery for nearly a year. It was time he moved on. This time, though, Dean was determined to be a good big brother and use his veto powers if he found that this guy wasn't good enough for Sam. Dean grinned, secure in his assumption. He didn't know why Sam was so reluctant to tell him what was going on, but he shrugged it off as one of Sam's 'things'. Sometimes, it was better to just let Sam be Sam and deal with the consequences later.

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**AN: Do you like it?**


	4. Let's Play Pretend

**Ready, Fire, Aim**

**Chapter Three- Let's Play Pretend**

**AN: Jesus, you guys are all a bunch of Sam-haters, aren't you? All my reviews had some variation of death-threats and others telling me how awful I am for pairing them for like, two seconds. The story's not over yet, guys! Oh well, at least it spurred the silent readers into review action haha! Anyway, I still think you guys are fabulous and love your death-threats just as much as I love your oddly endearing confessions of undying (and slightly creepy) love. I guess it works out in your favor as well, because they definitely cracked the whip to get me writing another chapter. **

**Also, this chapter is so short. I promise, it won't happen again.**

**As always, big hugs to my beta Libranfate for being able to piece together my ramblings into some semblance of a story. I love you.**

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**It felt good. It did. That wasn't the issue. **

The issue was Sam was too heavy. His smooth cheeks were stubble free, his lips were too thin, his eyes weren't green enough, and his hair kept tickling Cas' nose. Sam's kisses were polite and somewhat chaste, not nearly demanding enough, and he hadn't let go of Cas' cheek for a good fifteen minutes. Cas was sure Sam meant it as a tender gesture, but he was getting a kink in his neck from holding his head to one side.

It _was_ good, though, and that was the problem.

Sam, with Cas' permission, had removed their shirts as they lay pressed together on Cas' bed. Cas could feel every breath Sam took, and it was comforting to have someone else's warmth against him again. Cas remained a passive but willing participant until Sam's fingers ghosted down his sides. Cas couldn't help the involuntary shiver that passed through him. Dean used to do that to him. He would run his knuckles lightly down Cas' ribs before spreading his fingers to grip Cas' hips, bringing their bodies closer together. Cas closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn't let himself think about this now. It wasn't fair to Sam, and honestly, it wasn't fair to himself either. Cas settled his head back further into the pillow as Sam's lips continued down his neck, and his fingers wound themselves into the frustrating locks of hair.

With his eyes shut, Cas was almost able to pretend that this was something that he wanted. He tried his damndest to not think of Dean, but Sam was gently coaxing him to go further, and it felt too good to stop. He gripped tightly onto Sam's shoulders and squeezed, not really meaning to cant his hips upward when Sam's thumbs circled low on his hips. Sam groaned against his chest and pushed back against him, but Cas just turned his head to the side and clenched his eyes shut tighter. He wanted this, he did, but try as he might, it became all too apparent that he didn't want this with Sam.

_It's too soon. _He lied to himself. _You're just nervous. It's okay. _Cas buried his face in Sam's hair, inhaling deeply, pressing Sam's face into his neck. He felt Sam's teeth scrape his skin, and he just let it happen when Sam reached between them to unbutton his pants. Sam flexed his hips, and a soft whimper passed unbidden through Cas' lips, emboldening the man above him to begin pushing Cas' pants down over his hips.

"Wait, wait, Sam," Cas pressed a hand up against Sam's chest, lightly pushing the confused man away from him. Sam rose up on his elbows, and Cas tried to convey an apology through his eyes. "Sam, I'm sorry. I…" Cas couldn't finish the sentence and looked helplessly at Sam, who just smiled and nodded.

"It's okay, Cas. I shouldn't have pushed you." Sam sat back on his haunches, regarding Cas with slow, sad eyes.

"Sam, no, you didn't." Cas put his hand on Sam's cheek, needing to reassure him, if nothing else. Sam nodded and looked away, but Cas could tell that he didn't believe him for a second. It wasn't Sam's fault, not really. Cas was pushing himself. He just wanted to _feel _again, and Sam was so ready, so compliant to all of Cas' little whims that he couldn't help but want more.

Cas was just glad Sam didn't leave this time; he didn't want to be alone. Instead, he rose up on his side, propping up his head with a hand, staring at him with something akin to remorse. Cas stretched his hand across the bed and turned it palm up, letting Sam know what he wanted. There was a small sigh as Sam took his hand, curling his fingers around Cas' and running the pad of his thumb over his knuckles. Cas smiled; there was no denying that Sam was a great guy. Anyone would be lucky to have him yet here Sam was, with him, and all Cas could think about was his brother. It was so cliché and sad that it was almost laughable.

Trying to shake the negative thoughts away, Cas pulled Sam closer, placing a soft kiss to his lips. He pushed a strand of hair behind Sam's ear and smiled.

"How about a movie and take-out?" Cas asked, and Sam returned his smile, albeit grudgingly, but Cas pretended not to notice.

"Sure, Cas," Sam said, and with all the fake enthusiasm he could muster, Cas pulled himself out of bed and yanked Sam up with him.

**Twenty-five minutes later, the takeout from Pei-Wei's was sitting, steaming on the table, but Sam was still out on the deck, talking on the phone. **Cas could tell that whatever conversation he was having was distressing him. He kept running his fingers through his hair and chewing on his thumbnail, before throwing his arms wide, his voice rising passionately. Cas couldn't hear what he was saying, but it was obvious that it wasn't good. He rose from his seat and moved over to the French doors that lead to his balcony. He turned the handle and was able to open the door a crack before Sam's hand came out of nowhere, slamming it in his face. To say that Cas was taken aback was an understatement. He was too surprised to fight it and instead, took himself back to the couch, waiting again in stunned silence.

Sam wrapped up his conversation quickly, and Cas heard the click of the door opening. He didn't turn to face his friend, but felt Sam step up behind him and pull his head to the side, planting a soft kiss on top of it. Sam let his fingers linger on the back of Cas' neck before he backed away.

"You're leaving," Cas stated.

"Yeah." Sam confirmed from behind. Cas nodded, but didn't turn around. "Cas, I…" But whatever Sam was going to say, he never found out. After a short pause, Sam sighed and left. Cas leaned against the back of the couch, feeling more relaxed than he had in days.

**Sam's feet were heavy****,**** and it took more energy than he had to force himself up the stairs that led to his apartment. **He opted for the stairs instead of taking the elevator as was per his usual in order to prolong the inevitable. You see, there was someone waiting for him at his front door, someone more frightening than the police and less welcome than his annoying neighbor that smelled like moth balls. Sam had felt the life drain out of him as soon as he hopped off the bus to see a shiny, black Impala parked out in front of his building. His hands twitched and pulled up into a fist before he shoved them into his pockets, turning away from the car and making his way to the entrance. He waited for the elevator, but when the metal doors slid open, he found he could not enter. Turning toward the side, he opened the door leading to the staircase and began the long ascent to his seventh floor flat.

Finally, he reached his floor's landing, but he hesitated in opening the door marked with a large, blue seven. He knew this was the moment that would change everything for him. The minute he opened the door and looked down the hallway, Sam would see his brother, and everything would automatically be different. Cas would no longer be his, if he ever was, and Sam wasn't sure how he would even handle the situation yet. He needed more time. Maybe, if he just tossed the keys at Dean and turned off his phone, he could hold up at Cas' for the week, and they could just go from there. Breathing in, Sam gripped the door handle. Exhaling, he pulled.

"**Not bad, Sammy," Dean announced as he surveyed the area. **Sam shucked off his shoes and tossed his keys into a bowl on the stand next to his door. Dean dropped his duffle on the floor and tossed his jacket over the back of Sam's couch.

"That's what hooks are for, Dean," Sam said, rolling his eyes as he picked up the jacket and hung it up for his brother. Dean just ignored him and went for the kitchen. There was the distinct 'tskchhh' of bottles opening before Dean came back in, offering Sam one of his own beers. Sam shook his head and accepted.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically as his hand closed over the cool bottle. Dean nodded like it was no problem and slumped onto Sam's couch. "Please Dean, make yourself at home," Sam said as Dean eyed him warily.

"What's up your ass, Sam?" Dean set the bottle on the table, and Sam winced, knowing the condensation would leave a ring. There were coasters right by Dean's hand, for god's sakes! Sam resisted rolling his eyes and tossed him a coaster. "Whoa man," Dean shook his head, breathing out through heavily puffed cheeks, "California has made you prissy," he commented as he raised his bottle to put the block of wood underneath it. Sam took the arm chair next to his brother and crossed his legs. Dean sat back and scoffed at the sight of him. "Seriously Sammy, what's your problem? Do I need to leave?" To anyone else, this would have sounded rude, but Sam knew Dean was serious. His eyes were narrowed slightly, and he was gesturing to the door as if he expected Sam to kick him out. Sam felt his anger evaporate, leaving him feeling a little guilty about the lukewarm reception that he gave his brother.

"No Dean, of course not," Sam said softly, shaking his head slightly. "I'm really glad you're here. It's been a while, yeah?" Dean gave him a once-over, but fell back into their easy comradery fairly quickly.

"Yeah Sammy, how long has it been since you last visited? Fifteen months?" Dean took a swig of his beer, looking at Sam over the edge of the bottle.

"About, yeah." It was quiet for a while before Sam stood and schlepped Dean's bag onto his shoulder. "C'mon, I'll show you to your room."

**The pizza was all but devoured as Dean glared at Sam from across the box. **Anticipating one another, they both dove for the last slice at once and ended up head-butting. Sam fell away gripping his forehead, but Dean sat back, victoriously downing the cheesy confection. Sam shuffled back into his chair, groaning.

"You have the hardest head…" Sam was still wincing and just beginning to open his eyes, "I think I actually saw stars…" he mused as Dean winked at him.

"You always were the softer brother Sammy."

"If you say so." Sam finally removed his hand from his face, and Dean grimaced when he saw a red splotch already blossoming on his brother's forehead.

"That's gonna leave a mark." Dean cracked open another beer and tossed one to Sam as well. His brother held it up to his bruise instead of drinking it. "So, what have you been up to?" Dean asked, and something passed through Sam's eyes in that moment, making Dean wonder if he really wanted to hear the answer to that question.

"Not much," Sam answered cryptically, slugging back his beer.

"How's that paralegal job working out for you?" Dean probed, but once again, Sam was less than forthcoming with his answer.

"Good."

"That's it?"

"They talked about making me partner in a few years if all goes well, but you already knew that," Sam added on, and Dean pressed the cool bottle to his lips.

"Yeah, guess I did," he replied before taking a drink. It was silent around them, almost uncomfortably so, but Dean tried not to focus on that. He was picking at the edge of the label on his bottle, his mind entirely on Cas. He didn't know how to bring it up to Sam, though. He didn't want it to seem as if he'd just come up because of him, even though he had. He was glad to see Sam as well, but this entire trip had been because he knew things weren't over between them, and he needed to either get some sort of closure, or convince Cas to take him back. He didn't know which one he was more afraid of.

"So…" he began, still intent on mangling the soggy label, "any other news I should know about?" Dean asked, and Sam's face slackened, going into full panic mode. Dean's eyebrows creased together, and he stared in confusion at his brother. After a few seconds, and what looked to be some internal battle, Sam relaxed and shook his head.

"If you want to know about Cas, just ask," he said, and Dean didn't have to feign surprise. He felt his cheeks flame like he'd been caught in a lie, and he immediately began tripping over his words.

"I wasn't going to ask about him. I mean, if you want to tell me, that's fine, but I wasn't going to ask." Dean kept his head low, but flicked his eyes up to look at Sam, "But, he's okay though, right? I mean, since you brought him up." Dean sighed when the corner of Sam's mouth quirked upwards.

"Yeah Dean, he's fine."

"Good, good," he paused, "still teaching?" he inquired, still trying to maintain his indifferent façade.

"Yeah, they just offered him tenure."

"That's great," another pause, "he seeing anyone?" Dean dropped his gaze back to his bottle, but his eyes began to wander when Sam didn't answer. "Sam?" Sam's gaze seemed a bit out of focus, but when Dean said his name, he snapped back to attention.

"I'm sorry, what?" Sam responded, and Dean cleared his throat.

"I…uh…asked if he was seeing anyone." Dean looked shyly up at his brother, and Sam sighed.

"No Dean, he's not seeing anyone."

"Oh…well…" he trailed off, but couldn't keep the smile from cracking his face.

There was hope after all.

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**AN: ****Chapter three, time for a contest. For those of you who followed my author's notes in All's Fair, you may remember the comment I made regarding Misha's dick sucking abilities. Well, as one awesome reviewer pointed out, he has actually admitted to/showed that he was able to basically fellate himself. The first person to find me this video (either the actual act or just him talking about it) and PM me a direct link will get their very own 5,000 word one-shot based off a prompt you give me. Ready, set…and go!**


	5. Nostalgia

**Well, this was quite the delay.**

**Big thanks to the one true love of my life, Libranfate for being an amazing beta and an even better friend. **

**Ready, Fire, Aim**

**Chapter Four- Nostalgia**

"**You shut my own door in my face, Sam****,****"** Cas glowered at him as Sam scuffed a toe into the carpet. Cas dropped his hip and leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. He was angry, that much was obvious, and Sam didn't know how to make it right.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Sam quietly offered.

"That's all I get? No explanation?" Cas made an outward gesture of frustration as Sam's eyes dropped to the carpet again.

"It's…complicated."

"You slammed a door in my face, Sam. I want to know why. It's really not that complicated." Cas resumed his defensive stance and Sam ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

"I was on the phone with…someone, and I didn't want to upset you." Cas glared.

"Who were you on the phone with?" Cas asked, and instead of panicking and lying, Sam just stared at him, knowing that he would understand. When the realization dawned on him, his blue eyes grew frantic as he turned around, wrapping his arms around himself as he walked back through the hallway. Sam took that as his cue to follow. Sam saw Cas huddled at the edge of the couch, mindlessly flicking through TV channels. Sam sat on the opposite edge of the couch and looked at him. God, he was beautiful. Sam wondered if Dean had ever truly appreciated how amazing Cas was

"Sam," Cas said, gaining his attention, "you're staring." A smirk glanced over Cas' features and Sam had just enough time to smile back before Cas was stalking along the couch, settling his body in between Sam's legs. "I'll forgive you for this one, but full disclosure in the future, agreed?" Sam grinned and pushed a hand through Cas' fringe before settling it on his cheek.

"Yeah, Cas. Of course." He planted his lips on Cas' forehead before leaning back, letting Cas settle against his chest. He held Cas to him, wanting to enjoy this feeling just a little longer.

**Sam couldn't believe that he was actually going to go through with this, but it was time.** It was beyond time. Dean had been in town for three days now and he was beginning to seriously pressure him about seeing Cas. Sam had been doing a pretty good job of deflecting, but he was absolutely certain that Dean wasn't above following him the next time he left his apartment. Not to mention the raw guilt he felt every time he looked at his brother or his best friend. Dean was always so expectant, bobbing his knee up and down in anticipation, or having his head on a constant swivel, looking for Cas every time Sam took him out. And Cas, Cas just had this complete look of trust and devotion that churned Sam's stomach and made it so that he could no longer look Cas in the eye. So here he was, about to finally do the right thing effectively losing his best friend and potentially his relationship with his brother in one blow.

"Cas, I…I need to tell you something," Sam said, and Cas' smile dropped from his face. He had just interrupted him in the middle of a story, and from the expression on Cas' face, Sam could tell that he was nervous.

Sam took a deep breath and stared into Cas' trusting eyes for just a moment longer, wanting to savor the feeling of it. He knew what he was about to say would irrevocably change the way Cas felt about him, and he just wanted a few more moments of knowing that Cas loved him; if not as a lover, then at least as a friend. Cas seemed to sense his distress and reached out a hand to steady his own. Cas' thumb rubbed over his knuckles, and Sam's vision began to blur at the edges. Cas remained silent, waiting for him to continue, but Sam could feel his courage leaving him. He was going to lose Cas now, and that prospect was just too much to take. But as Sam stared at him, he knew that he loved Cas too much to let it go on like this. He needed to know about Dean, and it fell to Sam to complete the task. Sam knew he was in love with Cas, just as he knew Cas was in love with Dean. He'd tried to look past it, to tell himself that Cas' reluctance towards intimacy was just a product of his hurt, but it was becoming hard to continue lying to himself. It had become very apparent as of late that his relationship with Cas had peaked, and though he wasn't necessarily ready to let Cas go, it had to be done.

"Cas…I…I love you, you know that right?" Sam said, and Cas' eyebrows knitted together. Sam could tell this declaration was next to the absolute last thing he had expected to hear Sam say, and frankly he looked a bit uncomfortable to have heard it. Cas opened his mouth to respond, but Sam plowed through, "it's not fair for me to say that, but I just needed you to know before…before I tell you," Sam paused briefly. One last look into Cas' eyes and then, "You have a chance to be happy Cas, and I know it's not with me."

"Sam…"

"Dean's here, Cas." Sam dropped his head as Cas' gasp rang audibly through the room. When Sam raised his eyes, chancing a look in Cas' direction, he was unsurprised to see him looking shocked and angry, but the anger was internal, not directed at Sam, though he knew it was only a matter of time.

"Dean is…" Cas was breathing harder now.

"I don't know what this means for our…" Sam was going to say friendship, but Cas turned fiery eyes in his direction, and he stopped talking.

"This has nothing to do with our relationship, Sam. Whether Dean is visiting or not, it doesn't affect me."

"Cas…"

"No, Sam. I've done my crying over him. He doesn't get to dictate my…"

"He wants to see you," Sam blurted, not surprised when Cas visibly shut down.

"I can't." His eyes went wide, "I can't, Sam." There was silence, and then Cas asked the question Sam had been dreading to answer. "How long has he been here?" his voice was soft and steady though Sam could tell he was under great strain to keep it that way. Sam panicked.

"Cas, I wanted to tell…"

"How long, Sam?" he repeated more firmly this time, and Sam looked him in the eyes when he said, "three days." Cas shut his eyes, then leaned his head back, chuckling slightly.

"I'm so sorry, Cas." Sam whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wished Cas would say something. He wanted him to yell, to scream and rage at him, but nothing came and Sam knew, that in one fell swoop, Cas' trust in him had been broken.

"It all makes sense now." Cas spoke, making Sam almost wish that he didn't. "The way you've been acting. Why you even wanted this in the first place."

"Cas, no…"

"Don't lie to me, Sam. You knew Dean was coming back and yet you pushed for this to happen."

"Pushed?" Sam was confused. Was he that blind? Did Cas really not want this at all? "Cas, I thought…"

"You thought you'd just hide the fact that Dean was back from me. Didn't you think that I deserved to know?"

"Of course, but…I was too scared, Cas. I knew I would lose you the second he got in and I just…couldn't."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that you think me so faithless, Sam." Sam shot his eyes up to meet Cas' and noticed that they were no longer hurt, just angry.

"No, Cas…that's not what I meant. I just…"

"I need you to leave, Sam," Cas commanded softly, and this time, the tears did fall, unchecked and unchallenged from Sam's eyes.

"Cas…please…" he tried, but Cas just looked away. Sam stared at him for a moment longer before wiping his face and standing. "Dean's going to be at The Pier tonight at ten. I'm supposed to meet him, but…I'm sure he'd rather see you." And with that, Sam walked out of Cas' apartment, leaving the shattered pieces of himself behind.

"**Hey, you're outta long necks****,****"** Dean called from the couch when he heard the door click open and slam shut. Suddenly, something 'thunked' against his head, and he picked up Sam's wallet from where it fell into his lap.

"Debit card is in there. Pin is eight, four, three, seven. I'm going to bed," he said in a dull voice and, abandoning his beer, Dean followed. He passed Sam's door frame just in time to see his brother fall face first into his pillows.

"Wanna tell me what's got your panties in a bunch, Sam?"

"Not really," Sam mumbled into the fluffy downs of his bed, but Dean pressed on.

"How about you tell me anyway," Dean voiced, and Sam turned his head to face him.

"Can we just not, Dean? Please?" Dean was taken aback by the pleading tone of Sam's question. It was unlike Sam to not be willing to talk about his "feelings" and other stuff that made Dean cringe, but as curious as he was, he wouldn't force Sam to talk about it.

"Okay, well, I'll just be in the living room if you need anything."

"Thanks, Dean."

"Sure, Sammy."

"Dean?" Sam's voice was small as Dean turned back to see that his brother had buried his face in his pillows again.

"Yeah?"

"Make sure you go to The Pier tonight. At ten. Okay?" Dean furrowed his brow.

"Why the Hell would I do that?" Dean asked, but Sam just turned his back to him as Dean left the room without an answer.

Outside in the hall, Dean's palms began to sweat. The knowledge that Sam was more than likely setting him up to meet Cas hit him so forcefully he staggered into a wall before stumbling over to the couch when his knees failed to support him. Dean couldn't remember being so scared in his life. He leaned back against the pillows and replayed the last time he saw Cas over in his mind. It wasn't a pretty sight. They had both been hurting from the none-too-affectionate sex, to put it lightly. But Dean had used Cas that night, there was no getting around that, and to face him again after all this time…Dean wasn't sure if he could do it. He'd been pushing Sam to find out if Cas would be willing to meet with him, but he hadn't really expected him to do it. Dean was actually planning on following Sam to find out where Cas lived and then just show up later and hope he didn't slam the door in his face.

This was becoming too real, too fast.

**Dean had sat on the couch until nine-thirty, debating with himself over whether he should go or not. **The Pier was only a ten minute walk from Sam's apartment, and he waited until the last possible second before setting out. He wasn't going to go at all, he was so afraid, but he knew he'd always regret it if he didn't. Sam hinted that Cas would be expecting him, and Dean couldn't let himself disappoint him again. If things didn't go well tonight, then Dean could at least say that he had tried. In the end, it was that thought that got him up and off the couch, and out the door. He was pensive throughout the entirety of the short walk, keeping his hands in his pockets and his head down. When he reached The Pier, he found a bench near the end of the boardwalk, one that was half in shadow and had a good vantage point allowing him to see in all directions around him. Dean sat himself upon it and waited.

Forty minutes came and went as he sat, and just as he began to stand up to leave, convincing himself that this had been a dumb idea in the first place, his eyes alighted upon a man with jet black hair wearing a pale blue oxford rolled up to his elbows and black slacks. He sat back down with a heavy thump. Dean's heart nearly stopped; even from fifty feet away, he knew it was Cas. His stomach clenched and his mouth went dry. Jesus, why hadn't he drunk a few beers before coming? He watched as Cas approached the wooden fencing that blocked the boardwalk from the sand and leaned his elbows against it, looking out into the oceanic scenery. Everything in Dean was pulling him toward Cas, his mind was screaming for him to move, and he had made it as far as standing up before Cas turned his head and Dean was rendered motionless once more. The feeling of having Cas' eyes upon him was indescribable. On one hand, Dean was elated, on the other, he felt vulnerable and even more afraid now that he was finally facing him after all these years. The gravity of the situation was bearing down upon him, and he had to lock his knees to keep from falling. Cas stood about twenty feet from him, and never had there ever been a greater distance.

Before he could stop himself, Dean took a step closer and then another until he was standing barely two feet from Cas. Their eyes had been locked the entire time Dean approached him, searching for any sign that Cas didn't want this to happen, but Cas had a face of steely determination, and Dean knew he was as committed to this meeting as he was. He saw Cas' chest rise with even, calculated breaths, and Dean knew that he was forcing his breathing to be regular. He didn't know how, but he knew that Cas' heart was beating just as fast as his own. Thousands of things ran through Dean's head at that moment, all the things he had wanted to say, everything he wanted to do was building up within him, and he didn't know how to let it out. Cas, it seemed, could sense this, and offered the first greeting.

"Hello, Dean." Simple and cold, that's how Cas' voice sounded, and Dean deflated. He shouldn't have done this, any of this. He never should have gone running to California in search of something he'd lost so long ago. His cheeks began to burn in embarrassment as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, Cas," he croaked, surprised that he was even able to manage that. "I, uh, how've you been?" Dean settled on, and immediately knew it to be the most idiotic thing to ever pass his lips, and by the look Cas gave him, he thought so too. "Cas, I…that was stupid..." he tried to explain, but Cas interrupted him.

"I've been well. Yourself?" a perfunctory answer, but Dean appreciated that he'd even deigned to dignify the question at all. He felt a small smile spread across his face.

"Alright," he shrugged, and they were silent again. Cas turned back to the sea, and Dean followed his lead, bracing his elbows against the fence, and looking out into the water. This was unbearable. Dean felt terribly uncomfortable. He had no clue what to say, or do for that matter, and Cas wasn't giving him anything. "Do you want to get a drink?"

"God, yes," Cas answered in obvious relief, and Dean chuckled despite the intense situation.

"I'll drive, but you have to pick. I don't know the local watering holes very well yet," he joked, and Cas gave him a wry sort of grin as he turned.

"Don't worry. I do," Cas said, and the comment dug deep, already informing Dean of the damage he'd done.

**The bar Cas picked was exactly the type of place Dean would have expected to find Cas drinking in. **It wasn't exactly obscure, but it seemed as if the regular patrons were the only clientele this particular evening. The bar, Chance, as it was so aptly named, sat on the outskirts of a popular shopping district, far enough away that the herd of shoppers had already dispersed into the other, more glamorous places to get shitfaced in. Dean didn't mind though, he doubted he would have even been able to maintain a positive attitude here, let alone trying to hold it together surrounded by giggling drunk women. The bartender greeted Cas by name as he came through the door, and indicated that a table in back was open.

"I came here to study when I was finishing grad school," Cas told him as he slid onto the stool, "I wrote my thesis half blasted." Cas gave him a quick smirk to let him know that he was kidding, and Dean laughed.

"I wouldn't believe that for a second. Getting you drunk was a pain in the ass, you never did it willingly."

"It became easier," Cas said, and Dean's smile drooped. Cas wasn't going to give him any leeway here, not that he deserved it, but Dean didn't know how to even make attempts at amends if Cas was intent on throwing everything back in his face. But he tried again, because if one thing was for sure, it was that he was going to fight for this, and Cas is just going to have to deal with it.

"So," he began, "what have you been up to lately?" He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw an eye roll in there somewhere.

"You mean, what have I been up to since the night you took my virginity and then dropped me?" Cas spat out with so much venom, Dean pushed his stool out from under the table and stood.

"Jesus, Cas." He rubbed his hand over his face and leaned against the table, gripping the edges in his hands, "Do you really want to do this now? Here?" Dean's voice was hushed but angry, and Cas shrank from it. Dean knew he deserved it, Cas' anger, and he would let Cas have at him, just not here, and not now. Not when he was so determined to make it better. Cas had to give him that chance first. But just as Dean was convincing himself that Cas hadto hear him out, the other man stood and walked out of the bar without so much as a backwards glance. Dean gave a frustrated sigh and followed, jogging a bit to catch up with Cas at the end of the street.

"Fine." He said, grabbing Cas' wrist in his hand, pulling him back, "You need to hash this out now. You have things to say, and you have every right to say them, I deserve to hear them, just…don't leave me, Cas." Dean paused, stepping even closer, his gaze locked on Cas', "we can do this, I know we can."

"Do what, exactly?" Cas asked after a moments consideration.

"This. Talk. Be normal," Dean said, knowing that he wanted so much more. Seeing Cas again had only solidified the things he'd been feeling. Yes, the guilt was ever present, but he knew now more than ever that what he really wanted was for Cas to love him again. There was no big revelation, no moment of suppressed feelings rushing back because truly, those feelings had never left. He'd always loved Cas, and he always would, he just needed to convince Cas of that. He just needed to prove to him that he was completely dedicated to building their lives together again, and he was confident that he could do it if Cas would just give him the chance.

"I can do that," Cas said, but Dean could tell that all of his shields were up.

_It's better than nothing._

"It's a start," Dean said, suddenly painfully aware of how close they were and the wrist he was holding. Unfortunately, Cas seemed to notice to and jerked away as if Dean's touch had burned him. Dean, however, just grinned and put his hands in his pockets, pretending that the rejection hadn't hurt.

**Dean slipped the key through the lock and pushed his way in through the door. **He slipped off his shoes in the entry way and headed to the kitchen for a well-earned beer. Sam had re-stocked the long-necks in his absence, and he silently thanked whatever deity was listening for his brother's good manners. Bypassing the couch and making straight for the guest room, Dean set his beer on the side table and flopped down on the bed, a slow smile spreading across his face. Though the night had been tense and more than a little awkward, Dean had no trouble in calling it a success. The evening had ended with a smile from Cas, and more importantly, an agreement to meet up the next night for dinner. They'd spent their time together talking mostly of abstract things, and neither had alluded to or related anything back to their past relationship, but Dean knew that it was coming. He didn't know when it would happen, but they would eventually have to come to terms with what had happened. Dean had taken so much from Cas with his dismissal of their relationship, and he needed to be able to give Cas some of that control back. Dean downed the rest of his beer and shook his head to clear the negative thoughts. He lay back down and scooted beneath the covers, falling asleep with the image of Cas' smile in his mind.

* * *

**Guys, I had so much Misha autofellatio in my inbox, I couldn't even believe it. Made my freaking day. **


	6. To Come Undone

**Another update! Hopefully, they will come more quickly now. Note the word 'hopefully'.**

**Guys, seriously, thank you for sticking with me. I try to respond to all of my reviewers, but if I accidentally skip over you, I'm super sorry. Please don't think that it means I don't care, or that I didn't see it. I read each and every one of them, but I am super busy, causing me to read your reviews through automated e-mail that doesn't have direct reply option. Honestly, if I didn't respond to you, it's because I forgot to go back and check my PM's after reading the e-mail. **

**I suck, I know, I'm sorry.**

**Anyway, this is kind of a blanket 'thank you' to everyone I may have missed.**

**As always, huge, massive thanks to Libanfate for making sure I don't sound like too much of an idiot. He's got a tough job, guys. **

**Ready, Fire, Aim**

**Chapter 5- To Come Undone**

**Sam's eyes closed of their own accord when a shuffling to his right alerted him that Dean was making his lazy way into the kitchen for breakfast, or more likely a beer, but Sam wasn't going to call him on it.** He wasn't really in the mood for talking, much less joking with his brother right now. He hadn't slept very well last night, but given the circumstances, that was to be expected. Thanks to his anxiety-driven insomnia, he had been privy to Dean strolling in much later than anticipated. Sam had held a hope that Cas would have spit in Dean's face and left, or better yet, just stood him up. No such luck, it seemed.

"Morning, Sammy." And even through his yawn, Sam could hear the smile in his voice. He chose to remain silent but began scrambling his eggs with a little more vigor. "What's up your cooze?" Dean asked leaning into the fridge. Beer seemed to be on the menu this morning, as Sam had suspected.

"Nothing, Dean." Sam poured his eggs into a pan, and they gave a satisfying sizzle as they landed on the heated surface.

"Good, 'cuz I want to tell you about my date last night." Sam rolled his eyes and tried to concentrate on the other components of his breakfast. He pushed the bread into the toaster with so much force that the lever snapped off.

"Dammit!" he groaned, but noticed that the heating element was still working, so he figured he'd deal with it later, after he'd gotten his toast.

"You sure you're alright, Sam?"

"Fine, Dean." Sam buried his head in the refrigerator, searching for the orange juice.

"You sure?" Dean asked, and this time Sam looked over at his brother, an expression of annoyance written all over his face. "Alright, alright, I'll stop asking." Dean's smile perked up, and Sam turned back around.

_Here it comes._

"You in the mood to listen to your big brother?"

"Do I have a choice?" Sam stirred his eggs.

"Not really," Dean said, scraping a chair across the floor so he could sit. Sam sighed loudly.

"Go ahead." He pushed his eggs onto a plate and began to butter his toast.

"Okay, so I left a little late because I wasn't sure if I should go or not, right? I mean, I didn't exactly know what was going on, but I assumed you were setting me up to meet with Cas. Anyway, I go there and wait for almost an hour before he shows up. I was just about to leave and then I saw him. God, he looks good..." Dean mused to himself as Sam slapped the bread down on his plate. "Anyway, so it was pretty awkward, but we ended up walking on the beach pretty much all night and just talking. It was good." Sam grit his teeth as he snapped the top off the orange juice. "I mean, really good. He told me all about what I've missed out on these past five years. We made plans to meet up again tonight."

"What?" Sam looked over his shoulder in disbelief.

"Don't look so surprised. Cas and I have history. It's not so easy to bury that."

"Though you did your best," Sam said, pouring his juice into a cup.

"Yeah…" Dean deadpanned, but continued, "Anyway, I was thinking of taking him out for a picnic. Is that too… I don't know…cliché, I guess?"

"How should I know, Dean? You're the expert." Dean, it seemed, chose to overlook Sam's comment.

"I just want it to be a nice night, ya know. This could very well shape our future-" Sam gave a derisive snort.

"The hell?" Dean expressed while standing, "You got something you need to say, Sammy?" Sam looked down at his plate. He wasn't feeling hungry anymore. "Don't be shy, let it out!" Dean's voice was becoming louder with the threat of a growl underneath. It was the first time Sam had actively sought a confrontation with his older brother. He whirled around, facing Dean. He could tell his face was contorted in anger, but he didn't seem to be in control of his emotions at the moment.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Sam shouted, brandishing a spatula in Dean's face, "You think Cas is going to overlook the past? You're already talking about wanting to get back together with him and the future you think you've somehow got a shot at! Are you kidding me?! What future?! You think Cas deserves to spend the rest of his life with someone like you? You're so fucking selfish Dean! You just decide to come here when things get too heavy back home and expect him to just take you back, no questions asked?! Do you have any idea, any at all, of what you did to him?! He's still hurting, Dean. It's been five years, and he _just_ started opening up to me! You can't just walk back into his life and expect everything to be like it was. He's not the same person, and neither are you. The only difference is that you're still just as self-centered!" Sam took a breath, enjoying the fact that Dean appeared to be too shocked to respond.

"What do you even think you're doing here? Have you even considered the possibility that Cas might not want this, not want you? And what about Lisa? Does she know that he's the reason you're here? Or is she sitting at home, worrying that you might not come back? Have you even called her since you've been here?"

"Sam…"

"Are you even planning on telling Cas about her, or are you just going to try your chances, and if you strike out, go home like nothing happened?"

"You…you're way outta line, Sam."

"You don't know, do you? You don't care about anyone else's feelings, as long as you figure out your own."

"I…"

"Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that you're actually planning on making changes for the better, and this isn't another little experiment where Cas gets hurt in the end."

"Who the hell do you think you are, Sam?" Dean responded after a long pause. Sam expected to hear something like this from him. It was just like Dean to avoid the bigger issue. Sam shook his head.

"When you're done with Cas this time, why don't you just do him a favor and go ahead and blow his brains out to save him the trouble of doing it himself." Sam slumped out of the kitchen and down the hallway to his room, feeling completely and utterly drained.

"Sam!" Dean called down the hall. It seemed as if his thought processes had finally caught up with his vocal chords, but Sam was in no mood to hear what he had to say.

"Fuck you, Dean. Just…fuck you." And with that, Sam slammed his door shut.

**By the time Sam opened his eyes again, it was already dark outside. **He sat up in bed and ran his hand through his hair. He listened hard, but didn't hear any tell-tale signs that his brother was still in the apartment. He stood and made his way over to the door, poking his head out to view his surroundings. His apartment was dark and silent, so he exited his room, cautiously making his way around it. He picked his cell phone up from where he'd left it on the kitchen counter and checked the time. It was already passed one in the morning. He pocketed his phone and made his way to the guest bedroom, but he already knew what he'd find, so the dark room and bare bed came as no surprise. Sam knew Dean had won himself another date, after all. He turned away, shutting the door with unnecessary force. He slumped down onto his couch, lost in wonder over how things always seemed to work out for his brother.

Even when they were kids, Dean never had to worry about anything. Granted, they hadn't had the most luxurious of lives, but it wasn't all that bad. In school, Sam was bullied to oblivion just because he was intelligent and courteous. Dean was a total dick and had people shadowing him wherever he went. Sam always had to struggle, but Dean, it was like you couldn't touch him, and it always seemed to draw everyone in closer. Sam wanted desperately to find somewhere he fit in, but Dean wanted the exact opposite and yet, he was always the one that found his way. It wasn't until Sam had met Gabriel that anything changed for him. The sudden and unbidden thought of Gabriel brought up an unexpected pang of something Sam couldn't describe. It wasn't exactly pain, but the feeling was definitely uncomfortable. He groaned and stretched out, lacing his hands over his bare stomach. This was the last person he needed to be thinking about right now. It had taken him long enough to get over what Gabriel had done, if he ever truly had gotten over it.

On one hand, Sam knew what a tremendous opportunity it had been for Gabe to take that job; a person didn't just pass up an offer like that, but on the other hand, the way he had just left…without even listening to what Sam had to say, or trying to make it work, was just beyond what he was able to handle. After Gabriel left, Sam had latched on to Cas, hanging on to anything resembling a caring relationship, and Cas, still beaten and bruised over Dean, had attached himself just as firmly. Then, somewhere in the midst of all the unhealthy co-dependency, Sam had fallen in love with him. At least, he thought he had. Was it love when the only reason you came together was to not be alone? Was it love when your heart would always be somewhere else? Was it love, or was it fear that drove them to each other? Sam would always wonder if Cas felt that way too. He couldn't imagine being without Cas, but he would always question if he'd ever truly loved him. Was he just as selfish as he accused Dean of being? Sam groaned. He couldn't take the silence.

It was an odd feeling, sitting here alone in his apartment, knowing that he had alienated everyone from himself. He'd pushed Gabriel away by not being willing to listen to what he had to say, he'd thrown his relationship with Cas out the window by lying to him, and now Dean…Jesus, he'd done some shitty things before, but blowing up on his brother, while not entirely unfounded, was beyond inappropriate. Sam sighed; he didn't know how to make any of this right. This wasn't something that he could just 'fix' with a 'sorry I was a jerk' and just go on from there. It was going to take work, and Sam didn't know if he was ready for that quite yet. He also didn't think he could remain objective and supportive where Dean and Cas were concerned. Even though he was questioning the motives behind his supposed feelings for Cas, he sure as hell knew he didn't believe Dean was good enough for him. Along with the even more troublesome fact that when Cas did inevitably choose to be with Dean, Sam wasn't sure if he was going to be able to let Cas go. Sam covered his face with his hands before jerking into a sitting position when the door opened and shut again. Sam kept his eyes on the entryway, locking on Dean as soon as he appeared in the living room. Things were tense and silent, but Dean was surprisingly the one to dissolve it.

"Sammy," he greeted, and Sam could have sighed in relief. If all was lost with Dean, there would be no way he would address him as 'Sammy'; hell he probably wouldn't have even come back tonight. This was something Sam could save, and he wasn't going to waste time. After his cursory greeting, Dean made his way back into the kitchen to grab a beer. Sam was about to follow, but his brother was already making his way back, two long-necks in his hand. He popped the tops off, shoving the caps in his pocket and handed one to Sam. "Budge up, Sam," he grunted, and Sam grinned, moving to the other end of the couch as Dean took a seat. There was a bit of a pause before…

"Listen, Dean. About this morning…"

"It's forgotten, Sam." Dean took a drink, not meeting Sam's eyes.

"No, let me get this out. What I said…"

"Wasn't anything I didn't need to hear, or haven't thought myself," Dean said, turning his head and looking at his brother. "I gotta admit, I was surprised, but you didn't say anything that wasn't true. I know how much you care about Cas, and I can understand that you're feeling a bit protective of him right now." Now it was Sam's turn to be shocked into silence; he hadn't expected this from Dean at all. Maybe Sam had been too quick to judge his brother. It had been known to happen, but usually you could take Dean at face value. Sam began to wonder if he'd even scratched the surface.

"But Sammy, I want you to know that this isn't just a game for me. I know that my reasons for coming here might be selfish, but my intentions are good. If things don't pan out with Cas and me, well…I'll take it like a man and go home empty handed, but…" Dean paused for a moment, taking another swig of amber liquid, like it would somehow steel his fortitude, "I'm not happy there, I'm not…me. I love Lawrence, and I love my shop, but…" he gave a sort of mirthless chuckle, "I need him, Sam. He's what's always been missing. I just can't believe it's taken me this long to figure it out. You were right; I buried what happened to us so deeply that even I couldn't find it anymore. Even if we can't be together just knowing that I tried, that I finally fought for us, will be enough. I can live with that." Dean looked down, his eyes staring at something Sam couldn't see.

"Anyway, you don't have to worry about Lisa. We both know it's not going to work between us. We're together for all the wrong reasons. She's with me because her family is pressuring her to get married, and I'm with her to forget. It's not healthy. As soon as I get home, I'm going to do what needs to be done, regardless of what happens here. I would do it now, but she deserves more than a phone call. She deserves to know why."

"Dean…I…" Sam began, but Dean looked over at him, a small smile on his face.

"It's okay, Sammy. I should have told you this before. I know how I can get, and I should have been more, uh, sensitive to your feelings." Dean's mouth hitched up a little, and Sam gave a snort of laughter.

"Overkill, Dean." He teased, but he appreciated it all the same.

"Alright…" Dean slugged back the rest of his beer and set the empty bottle in front of Sam, "You take care of these, I'm going to bed."

"Got another hot date tomorrow?" Sam asked with a smile. The relief from Dean's admission made speaking about their relationship easier. Dean turned back to him, his roguish smile firmly in place.

"You bet your ass I do," he replied with a wink.

**The taillights of Dean's Impala had long since travelled out of sight, but Castiel still stood at his window staring off into the distance. **Dean had given him a lot to think about tonight. Cas knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon, so finally turning away from the window, he made his way into the kitchen, turning on his Keurig to make some tea. Two-minutes later, the mug was steaming in front of him, but he wasn't doing anything about it. He was going over the last conversation with Dean in his mind. It had been a very one-sided affair, with Dean talking and Cas mostly concentrating on processing all of the things he was telling him. At the end, he'd agreed to a third date, a formal date this time, without even really knowing what he was nodding his head to. Cas dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubbed. Not bothering with his usual tea preparations, he grabbed his mug, sloshing scalding English Breakfast all over his hand. Cas yelped and promptly dropped his mug, watching as it shattered on the floor, the tea spreading and staining the gray laminate a sickly sort of brown.

"Dammit!" Cas nearly wailed, sliding down to the floor but not bothering to clean the mess. His head rolled back to thump against the cabinet doors as he closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. It shouldn't have bothered him that the mug had smashed; it had been a gift from one of the teacher's at his school, and he didn't really like it, but he felt the sharp pings of tears in his eyes anyway. Somehow, the shattered mug and the ensuing mess felt like a metaphor for his life right now. He felt so conflicted and unsure of himself in ways that he never had before. He was going crazy without Sam to level him out, and with Dean pushing his way back in, he needed him more than ever. If not for conversation and advice, then just for something solid to hold on to while everything crumbled. He knew he couldn't go to Sam though, not for this, and not after the way he had treated him the day before.

He knew his anger towards Sam was unfair and unwarranted, but everything was just piling on at once, and Cas couldn't process so many different feelings at one time, causing him to lash out with the emotion that was easiest for him to identify. Sam had just been the unfortunate target; Cas couldn't even begin to explain how much he regretted attacking him with his anger. He tried to get Sam's last desperate look out of his head, but he couldn't. In all their years of friendship, Cas had never seen Sam cry. Even when Gabriel had left, Sam just kind of shrugged it off, even though Cas knew it was a mask. Cas still couldn't believe he was the one to make Sam feel lost enough for all his barriers to break down. What was worse, Cas just overlooked it and told him to leave. In his heart, Cas knew that Sam hadn't pushed for things between them to progress, just as he knew that Dean wasn't his reason for doing so, but the facts were so easily clouded by anger, and it was so much simpler to just let someone else take the blame. He groaned and rolled forward onto his knees, beginning to collect the thick, porcelain shards. He knew he needed to talk to Sam, but how do you bring up something like that? How do you apologize for disregarding someone like he did? Cas shook his head; it would have to be done. He wouldn't lose Sam to something like this.

He deposited the broken pieces into the trashcan before grabbing a hand towel from the bar across his oven. He laid the material over the mess and began mopping it up, laughing at how, once again, a spilled mug of tea was laying all the groundwork out for him. This was his mess, and he would have to be the one to clean it up. He cleaned without complaint, his mind blissfully blank, and when he was done, he dumped the towel in the sink to dry. He walked back into his living room, the sight splayed across the back of his couch making him smile even wider. The khaki-colored trench coat was wrinkled, but intact. Picking it up, he could smell the faint scent of oil, car exhaust, and leather, all tell-tale signs that this had been in Dean's keeping for quite some time. The evening had started off a little slow, but ended on a remarkably good note. Cas held the coat up to his nose, smiling as he thought back.

**It had been a tough decision to give Dean his telephone number****,**** and an even more difficult one to divulge his address, but Cas had eventually relented in both, as proved by Dean showing up on his doorstep promptly at nine in the evening. **Cas greeted him at the door, but didn't offer to show him in, not quite ready to take that leap yet. Instead, he'd shoved his shoes on and packed his wallet in his back pocket, grabbing his keys and rushing out the door almost before Dean even had the chance to knock. He'd looked surprised at the abruptness of Cas' arrival, but seemed to recover quickly. He hitched up a smile as Cas was turning to lock the door.

"Hey, Cas," he voiced softly, and god, he looked adorable. Cas didn't typically classify things as such, but the way Dean was standing with his hands shoved in his pockets, head bent and tilted to the side, and his evergreen eyes staring expectantly down at Cas, well there wasn't really another word for it. Dean smiled like he knew exactly what he was doing to Cas' insides, which if truth be told the bastard more than likely did, and led him down the stairs and out to his car. Like a perfect gentleman, Dean opened the passenger side door for him, and Cas couldn't help but laugh at how hard he was trying. Even in college, the closest Dean had ever gotten to opening the door for him was when he'd picked him up at the library. Cas had had an armful of books, and Dean had simply leaned over the bench seats and shoved the door open for him. Cas slipped into the front seat, letting the leather cradle him. It felt good to be back in Dean's car. It was such an extension of him, of his personality that Cas almost felt him there, even though he was still circling around the car to the driver's side.

Once Dean had settled himself behind the wheel, they'd driven for about an hour before entering into a wooded area. Dean stopped the car on the side of the road as Cas looked around nervously.

"What are we doing here?"

"You'll see," Dean said opening the car door.

"That's not funny, Dean. This is getting creepy." Cas kept himself firmly planted in his seat.

"C'mon. Would I do anything to hurt you?" Cas kept quiet as Dean winced, realizing the stupidity of his words. In lieu of a reply, Cas just unlocked his door and stepped out of the car, feeling the tension ease when he heard Dean do the same. "I found this place when I was driving through to Sammy's and stopped to take a leak."

"Charming," Cas commented, rolling his eyes. Dean held a few stray branches away from Cas' face as he stepped through into the underbrush. Cas pushed away low hanging moss and tree limbs, leaving Dean to fend off the larger obstacles.

"Not too much further," he warned, and Cas was glad. Barely ten feet in front of him was a sheer drop-off that Cas would have tumbled right over if Dean hadn't told him it was there. Dean strolled right up to the edge and sat down upon it. Cas followed, stepping out of the tree-line to take a seat next to him. "The moon looks so huge out here," Dean expressed, looking out into the rolling waves. It wasn't exactly the perfect spot for sightseeing, what with the litter strewn beach just fifty-feet below, tankers out in the distance, and the ever present screech of seagulls, but Dean was right, the moon was massive, and the ocean sparkled silver with the force of its rays. Cas looked over at Dean and saw that his bright eyes were locked on the moon. "We don't get moons like these back in Kansas."

"There're other things in Kansas that we don't get out here," Cas reasoned, and Dean snorted with laughter.

"Yeah, cows," he countered, and Cas couldn't help but laugh a little in return.

"I haven't heard that in a while," Dean said as Cas glanced over at him.

"Heard what?"

"Your laugh," Dean shrugged, but his voice was gruff, like he was aware he was being too sentimental and detested every second of it.

"Well, whose fault is that?"

"Ouch," Dean responded, "let's keep the venom at a minimum tonight, Cobra Commander." Cas was too amused that he was quoting G.I. Joe to be petulant, and even if he had chosen to remain wary of getting close to Dean, the other man wasn't going to make it easy for him. They sat talking, mostly about innocuous little things for another hour or so, before Dean stood.

"Let's go back to the car. I have something for you." Dean extended his hand for Cas to take, but Cas just shuffled his legs underneath his body, and stood without Dean's aid. Dean brushed his hand through his spiky locks, pretending that Cas' unwillingness to touch him didn't affect him in the slightest. Cas followed Dean back to the car and was about to make some snide remark about trying to buy his affections, until he actually realized what Dean was holding. There, in Dean's hands, lay a small bundle of khaki-colored material and bronze buttons; all held neatly together with a deep blue tie. Cas felt his eyes widen as he took a few steps forward.

"I can't believe you kept this." Cas took the bundle from Dean and ran his fingers over the material.

"I knew it was important to you. I never saw you without it. I never got the chance to…I couldn't face…well, I decided to keep it if I ever got the chance to give it back…in person." Cas could hear Dean's ramblings, but it barely registered with him as his eyes misted over. He deftly untied the knot that held the coat together before shoving it into his pocket and shaking out the material. He wrapped it around himself, slipping his arms into the slots. He pulled the fabric in close and looked at Dean.

"Dean this…it means so much to me that you kept it, I…it was my dad's. I hated myself for losing it."

"I'm sorry I didn't get it back to you sooner," he said, and Cas was so elated, he didn't even protest when Dean reached out to fold the collar down. Dean's fingers slid under the material, rubbing softly against Cas' neck. Cas just let him finish, standing still as Dean worked. Though it lasted barely fifteen seconds, the touch lingered, resonating within him. Cas tried to push away from the intensity of it. He couldn't lower his guard so flippantly, he'd done that before and with less than desirable rewards, if the last five years had been any indication. Cas cleared his throat and stepped back.

"Thanks again, Dean," he said. Dean gave him that smile that was halfway between disappointment and actual happiness as he opened his door for him.

"C'mon. Let's grab some dessert, and then I'll take you home."

**Cas pulled the trench coat away from his nose and moved to hang it in the hall closet. **He shut the door and turned around, intending to go to his room and attempt to sleep, but a buzzing came from his pocket, and he dug in to fish out his phone. It was a text from Dean. Without looking at it, Cas set it down on his coffee table, just staring at it. He lowered himself down onto his couch as the screen lit up again, reminding him that he had a notification. Cas wasn't sure if he was ready to read the words Dean had written. Things had gotten pretty intense when Dean had dropped him off after their 'date', if it could be called that. There wasn't anything physical, though the air around them was nearly as suffocating as if someone did have their hands around Cas' throat. Cas had just bid Dean goodnight and was in the process of exiting the car when he felt Dean's hand anchor him in. Cas' face was immediately engulfed in flames, and had to work to keep from jerking away.

"I want to take you on a date, Cas," he said. Cas froze on the spot. All thoughts of running away and fleeing to the sanctity of his apartment vanished as he looked over at Dean to see the serious expression on his face. "Will you let me?"

"I…I don't know…" he managed, and Dean nodded, pulling away. Cas couldn't help but feel bereft without his touch.

"I get it, believe me, I do. I know it's probably crazy for me to even ask, but…I'm trying here, Cas. I want this, I know I've said that before, and I left you. So you have no reason to trust me on this, but no more excuses, okay? I know what I did, and dammit, I'm sorry, but I'm doing my best to make it better. Just please, give me that chance. It's selfish to ask it of you, but… here it is. Me, being selfish." Dean paused for a bit and one look into his earnest eyes, and Cas knew he'd give him anything.

"Okay," he breathed, and Dean slumped forward, hanging his head.

"Oh, thank God," he voiced with a smile on his face.

Cas grinned too, in remembrance of the relief on Dean's face when he'd agreed to let him take him out on a date. Cas' cell phone flashed again. There was another incoming message. This time, he was brave enough to take a look.

"_**Thanks, Cas," **_it read, _**"goodnight".**_

And then the other from Sam, _**"Can we meet up?"**_

Cas sighed; this looked to be the beginning of another sleepless night.

* * *

**So, what'd you think? Do tell!**


End file.
